


Wayward

by zuiver



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-19
Updated: 2015-04-21
Packaged: 2018-03-24 18:34:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3780109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zuiver/pseuds/zuiver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The journey of Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak, and the development of their relationship. Love making, heart breaking, show shaking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

If only looks could kill.

‘I don’t know you,’ Dean said firmly. ‘Okay? I don’t know you and I want you out of my café.’  
‘Not your café, sweetie.’ Cas countered cheekily, dimples growing in his cheeks. ‘You can’t kick me out.’  
‘I’ll get my boss. He can.’ The taller man threatened.  
Cas didn’t stop smiling. ‘Do you really want me kicked out? Come on, baby, you promised me a dance.’  
A little bit of rage grew within Dean, along with a little something else. Longing. No one had tried this hard to get him to stay for a long time.  
‘I told you.’ He said through gritted teeth. ‘Raincheck.’  
Cas pouted at him. ‘I thought we had something, baby,’ he mocked, tilting his head sideways like a pathetic puppy.  
‘Will you stop calling me that?’  
‘What?’  
‘You know.’  
‘Go on, baby, say it.’  
‘That! I’m not your baby.’  
Cas started to chuckle. ‘Can I at least get a milkshake? You know which one’s my favourite.’ He slapped a ten dollar note onto the tall bench between them and winked. ‘Keep the change.’  
Dean grabbed the money, stuffing it into the till and slamming it shut. ‘I’ll put poison in your oh-so-special milkshake, I swear to God.’ He muttered under his breath angrily while he turned his back on Cas and walked behind the desk towards the milkshake machine. Darting a quick glance back, he watched Cas rake a hand through his floppy hair, lightly pulling his quiff back up. Dean let himself smile a little bit as he remembered when he used to be the one ruffling Cas’s hair. Kicking himself for remembering, he started on the milkshake. He remembered to add an extra packet of sugar. It was almost an automatic action, as he knew it was what Cas liked most in his caramel milkshakes. 

When the boys were nine, they met at school and became instant friends. Tiny, bad-ass Dean would come in a little late every day and sass the teacher as he sat down, making the whole class laugh. Cas was in awe of him every day and was too shy to talk to him until he spilled his drink on him once, ruining his favourite shirt.  
‘I’m sorry.’ Cas mumbled, standing behind Dean as he tried to get the apple juice out of his grey t shirt. Dean was annoyed, but waved him off.  
‘Ah, it’s alright.’ He almost shot Cas a smile as he watched him in the foggy primary school excuse for a mirror, but thought a little better of it and ducked his head back down to examine the stain. ‘I’ll get my dad to wash it out for me.’ He frowned for a second, then turned the taps off and shook his head. ‘I think apple juice comes out in the wash.’  
‘Yeah.’ Cas said shyly. ‘I think so.’  
Dean turned to the smaller boy, and asked for his name. Flattered that the most popular boy in his year even cared, Cas cleared his throat and stood up a little taller.  
‘Castiel.’ He said proudly. “Castiel Novak. You can, uh, you can call me Cas if you want.’

Dean smiled at Castiel. He liked him, even if his first real encounter with the boy included him ruining one of his favourite shirts. He was small, yet kind and clever. He was very different to Dean himself, and – although neither of them liked to admit it – neither of them really had many friends. 

‘You wanna hang out with me and Ash today? At lunch?’ Dean asked. It wasn’t really a question.  
Cas nodded. ‘Sure.’  
He went home that day ecstatic that he had made a new friend.

From that day on, Castiel and Dean could not be separated. Sure, they did their work and were good students, but were also two of the biggest troublemakers in school. Cas learned from Dean how to be annoying yet charming, and funny yet not completely disrespectful. Dean learned from Cas how to fill up water balloons and drop them from the top of the stairwell without looking to see if it hit someone, and how to make scones like his mother taught him. If one took the day off school, the other went straight around to his place after school to check on him, make sure he was okay, and make up for all the time they missed out on at school. Sometimes they hung out with another guy, Ash; a strange kid who smelled like dirt and oatmeal and had a mullet. 

The two were lucky enough to go to the same high school and have most classes with each other. Dean took Food Tech, Visual Arts and Commerce as his electives, while Cas took Visual Design, Drama and Spanish. Cas got a job as a part time mechanic and sometimes did the paper rounds on weekends. Dean was a baker; using some skills that Cas taught him in primary school, he baked for his friends, family and paying customers.  
The stress of high school got them to drift apart a little bit more than Dean would have liked. For all his new found popularity at school, he never once had a girlfriend. He had his pretty green eyes fixed on someone he had known for most of his school life.  
Cas met a few girls, but none of them were really serious – apart from this one pretty young thing, with dark hair and Bambi eyes. 

‘Cas!’ Dean called from across the locker room after their final football game for the season. The room smelled like sweat, lined with a thick layer of men’s deodorant. He looked up from his bench and locker after putting his gum shield back in its slot, and grinned at his best friend.  
‘Heya.’  
‘You coming to celebrate tonight? Victory party outside the Roadhouse, Ellen’s toasting us. You gonna come with?’ he asked excitedly, green eyes twinkling happily.  
Cas ducked his head, smiling. ‘Nah, man, I told you. I’m going out with Meg tonight.’  
Dean’s smile dropped, the shine slightly fading from his eyes. ‘What?’ he asked, most of the team listening in now. ‘You told her we won, right? You just texted her?’  
‘I did text her.’ Cas confirmed, growing a little embarrassed. ‘But it was to say that I was still coming.’  
The team groaned collectively. ‘Come on, man,’ Andy whined. ‘It’s the first win since like, forever. You’ve gotta come with us!’  
‘Yeah,’ Michael joined in. ‘Please, man? We’ll get wasted. Lad’s night out, remember?’  
The team jeered and called, egging him on. ‘No! Okay? Jeez, guys, we’ll win again later. Then I’ll come.’ Cas countered. ‘But I made plans with Meg before the match.’  
Dean remained quiet in the corner. ‘Alright, alright.’ Michael sighed, slapping Dean’s brother Sam on the shoulder. ‘Your loss, man.’  
‘Have fun.’ Cas called as the boys bolted out of the stuffy room, whooping and hollering. ‘We’ll win next time, yeah? Then I’ll come.’  
‘Promise?’ Crowley shouted as he ran past, football still in hand.  
‘Yeah, man, you bet.’  
Dean clapped Cas’s shoulder hard on his way out. ‘You’d better get laid.’  
‘Hey,’ Cas protested, but Dean shot him a wolfish grin and was already out the door before Cas could say another word.

Cas did get laid that night on his date, but it wasn’t the pretty girl riding atop him that was on his mind the whole time. 

Meg noticed.  
Right after, Cas would usually lay down and hold her tightly, no matter how messy the sheets had gotten. This time the second they were done, Meg collapsed in exhaustion but was immediately uncomfortable as she slipped off Cas. He rolled off the bed and walked straight to the bathroom, not looking back.  
‘Cas?’ Meg called. ‘Where are you going?’  
‘Toilet.’ Cas seemed distracted, and barely looked at her as he walked away. Meg tried not to think too much of it and pulled her messy hair into a ponytail while she waited for his to come back. When he did it was awkwardly silent. Cas barely touched her.  
Meg knew Cas wasn’t asleep by the way he was breathing. When he slept, his breathing was very deep and he took long, even breaths. Tonight it was uneven and shallow, for hours. Meg lay awake, listening until she could take it no more. She itched to be touched.  
‘Cas,’ she purred softly, rolling over to face his back. ‘Are you okay, babe?’  
Cas rolled over and smiled softly at her, cupping her face with a warm hand. ‘Yeah, love, I’ve just got--’ he paused for a second, then said ‘—a lot of stuff on my mind.’  
His girlfriend tilted her head. ‘You wanna talk about it?’  
He shook his head slowly before saying, ‘You know, De--’  
He caught himself. He had been talking about his best friend way too much these past couple of weeks. He knew Meg must be getting tired of it. And right after sex, too? When they were at their most intimate, and Cas wanted to talk about someone else?  
He shook his head again and half-smiled, tiredly. ‘Never mind. I just wanna go to sleep.’  
Meg nodded, satisfied. ‘Will you hold me?’  
Cas moved his long, muscled arms around until they encircled the beautiful girl who lay in front of him. She nestled down happily and breathed in his scent, going to sleep remarkably quickly. He absentmindedly stroked her brown hair while the two halves of his brain battled out an eternal question in his mind.


	2. Chapter 2

The lava lamp on the bedside table was giving Dean a headache. That and probably the mix of alcohol he had consumed that night, after celebrating with his teammates after the win, was not helping to cease the pound in his head. But he wondered if maybe the question he was thinking of was adding to that same problem – why was he so upset when Cas had declined their winning offer? He was clearly more put out than the rest of the team, though he did a good job of hiding it from Cas. It wasn’t like he really liked football – his dad had almost forcefully nudged him into playing, so it wasn’t like Dean was proud that they had won. He was just kinda happy that the team’s hard work had paid off, and that he had an excuse to hang out with his buddies and drink a lot of alcohol. He wanted Cas to be there too, though. Why wouldn’t he go?  
Dean was battling back and forth between a few possible answers – why he was so put out that his best friend hadn’t come with them. Either a) he didn’t like the rest of the team as much as he thought he did, or b) he liked Cas more than he thought he did. 

There was no way the second option was true. Then again, there was no way the first option was true. Thanks to football, Dean had gained some amazing new friends. High school wasn’t so bad with them by his side all the time, and he genuinely enjoyed hanging out with them. But then again Cas had been his best friend since year three of primary school, and they were always together, no matter what. It did sting a little; that Cas had chosen a girl over them, but maybe if Dean were in Cas’s shoes he would have done the same thing. He did make plans before the game, so it was only fair.  
The raging questions in Dean’s head made it pound. Grumbling, he turned away from the purple monstrosity on his bedside table and squeezed his eyes shut, praying for sleep. 

**

Bzz, bzz, bzz.

Cas groaned, stretching his weary arms over his head. Blinking his weary blue eyes, he opened them to find Meg was no longer nestled in his arms – in fact, she was nowhere to be seen. He flicked his phone a few times to make it stop buzzing – and miraculously, it did. He meant to get up, really he did, but he rested his eyes for a just a few seconds too long and drifted off back to sleep.

Paranoia suddenly flicked at his face, waking him again. That wasn’t even his alarm. It was Saturday. He didn’t need to wake up early, and neither did Meg – so where was she? And it wasn’t his alarm, it was a text message.  
Cas blinked at the red digital clock to his left. It read 9:43am. Scooping up his phone, he unlocked it and checked the message. It was from Meg.

Sorry I had to leave like this. But I know you’re keeping something important from me, and I know you’re not happy in this relationship, Cas. Fact is, neither am I. We can still be friends if you want but I am going my separate way. I think you should do the same.  
-Meg x

Cas stared at the screen for a minute, waiting for the news to kick in. Meg had left. His girlfriend had dumped him and left him with nothing but a text message and her soft scent on the pillow beside him.  
When pain never hit him, Cas got up out of bed and walked around, yawning. He felt a little guilty. Shouldn’t he be upset? Distressed? Betrayed, even? No – no feelings of remorse ever entered his brain, and he wondered why. Meg was right; neither of them were happy in the relationship. He hadn’t realised he had been so obvious about it, though. 

A tan trench coat was yanked from a nearby chair and pulled hastily around his shoulders. Cas quickly texted Dean – hey, you up? I wanna come over.  
Cas wasn’t really all that awake that morning, but awake enough to shovel in a coffee, some cornflakes and half an apple before picking up his car keys and making his way out of the house to the driveway, where his mother’s car was no longer in the driveway. Cas had forgotten she had left for Vietnam for a fortnight, leaving the house to Cas and his cousin Gabriel for two weeks. Luckily Gabe hadn’t nicked his car like he usually did, which led Cas to believe Gabe wasn’t home or was still sleeping. In any case, Cas had his car. He slid inside the blue Ford and turned the ignition, gulping the last few bites of apple before chucking it out the car window into the plants beside the driveway. Checking his phone, he noticed he hadn’t gotten a reply from Dean, but decided to visit anyway. He wanted to find out the shenanigans that had taken place in the few hours of the celebration party while he wasn’t there, and Dean would never mind him coming to stay for a night or two. He’d done it before, and he’d do it again. 

**

Dean’s headache hadn’t lessened in the morning when he woke up, but he was surprised to find a bottle of water and two tablets by his bed next to the lava lamp when he opened his bleary eyes. It couldn’t have been his dad, as he never did that sort of thing – his mother disappeared long ago and as far as he knew, Sam went home with his girl Jess after the party and hadn’t come back. So who was the mystery person who mothered him?

He suspected noise would make the pain worse, but Dean was a little intrigued when the soft sounds of a guitar being played didn’t change his headache in any way. He found himself straining to listen, after sitting up, stretching and throwing back the pain killers while gulping the whole bottle. Who the hell was inside? Sam never played guitar, and neither did his Dad.  
He came to a halt by the living room door, finding the house completely deserted bar one slight character. His friend sat with his back to him, tuning his favourite guitar – it was signed by both Billy Idol and Elvis Presley, thanks to his dad and a few favours around town.  
Cas finished tuning it and started to softly strum, whispering lyrics to himself. Dean had heard his friend sing before, and always secretly liked it. He had a good voice.

The questions rattling around his brain from the night before decided to stir at that particular moment, most likely triggered by the sight of Cas himself. Dean blushed and tried to stem the thoughts, but more just kept coming. He couldn’t possibly like Cas any more than in a friend way, like – really close friends. They had been friends for too long for anything like that to happen. It would just be weird, now. And hey, what if it all blew up in their faces? Their friendship would never be the same again, and Dean didn’t want to risk that. 

Cas looked up, hearing Dean in the doorway. ‘Hey, freckles.’ Cas grinned. ‘Sleep well?’  
Dean smiled softly at the primary school nickname before he rubbed his hands over his face and left them there when he replied, making his voice muffled but still able to be heard. ‘What are you doing here?’  
‘Thought I’d pop round, see how you were doing.’ Cas said as Dean groaned. He winced. ‘Not so well, then, I gather.’  
Dean slumped into a chair. ‘If you hit me with a truck, I think I would feel better.’  
‘That good, eh?’ Cas slid the guitar down his lap and leaned over to let it lean against the wall by the fireplace. ‘Did you only just wake up? Bloody hell, you did get smashed.’  
Dean smiled. ‘Yeah, man. You shoulda been there. It was awesome. Jo was there, and Ash came back, too.’  
Cas’s ears perked up, almost like a dog’s. ‘Ash came back?’  
‘Yeah. Said he wished you were there. I wished you were there.’  
Cas ducked his head a little to avoid Dean’s gaze. He was really chuffed by that statement. Dean wanted him there last night. He wished he had been there, come to think of it now. His evening had been less than pleasurable and he really would have preferred to be at the celebration with his mates rather than sloppy sex with his girlfriend hat neither of them wanted. Thinking of Meg made his mouth move of its own accord.

‘Meg broke up with me.’  
Dean was silent for a moment. ‘Why?’  
Cas shrugged. ‘I guess we both wanted it, really. She’s not the girl for me.’  
‘Ah, well.’ Dean shrugged too. ‘You alright?’  
‘Yeah, surprisingly. I should feel guilty or bad or something. But I don’t. It’s weird, you know? Maybe I was never really that happy with her in the first place.’  
Dean nodded and was silent. What Cas didn’t know was that Dean was secretly bubbling away happily inside, like a shaken can of fizzy drink waiting to be opened so he could burst. He wasn’t really sure why, but he had a vague idea – and he wasn’t sure what he felt about that.


	3. Chapter 3

Cas stayed at Dean’s house for the rest of the day, and most of Sunday too. Sam came back, with Jess clinging to his arm as if afraid she might fall off. He threw Cas a wolfish grin, not unlike the ones Cas usually got from his older brother, and said ‘How long have you been here?’  
Cas shrugged. ‘A while.’  
‘And… you didn’t get up to anything nasty?’  
Everyone in the room paused for a minute, as Cas darted a glance at Dean, who was going beet red. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. What the hell is that supposed to mean anyway, Samsquatch?’  
‘It’s Sam.’  
‘It’s Getoutofmyroom.’  
‘I’m not in your room! We’re in the living room!’  
‘Fine!’ Dean gave up with a sigh. ‘Leave me alone then!’ he threw a blue couch pillow at the offender, who ducked and it hit the wall behind him.   
Sam smiled at Cas. ‘Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,’ he winked, and left the room with a smirking Jess.  
Dean groaned and slumped further into his chair after Sam left. ‘If we’re going by that, it means we can’t do anything. Like seriously, we can study, and we can eat rabbit food. That’s literally it.’   
Cas grinned again. ‘Your brother is so weird.’  
Dean rolled his eyes, walking over to pick up the guitar leaning by Cas’ chair. ‘You’re telling me.’ 

Cas pondered over what Sam could have meant. Did that mean he thought Cas was gay? Or maybe Dean was. Was he? Cas felt a little prickle of hope, mixed with betrayal. Dean had been his best friend since they were both small. Surely he would tell Cas something as important as that?   
But then again… if Dean was gay, and Sam knew about it – could that really happen? Hypothetically speaking, of course – Cas corrected himself – if Dean were gay then maybe this could work. Maybe, maybe, maybe. 

(A.N: I know Castiel did not write this song, nor did Misha Collins. I just really wanted Cas to have written this song for Dean. All credits go to Michael Bublé and any other writers of the song.)

The soft sound of a strumming guitar brought him back to the present, along with Dean’s amused stare. Dean was curled up in his comfy chair, entwined around the guitar, smirking at Cas. He shot Dean a confused look, before he raised one eyebrow. ‘You right?’  
‘Huh?’   
‘You were making weird faces. I think you were thinking too hard.’ He replied.  
Dean leaned forward towards Cas. ‘Penny for your thoughts?’  
Through thick and thin, Cas and Dean had told each other almost everything, which was uncommon in most teenage boys. But whatever Cas was just thinking about – like hell he was going to tell Dean.   
‘I, uh, um.’ He stuttered, trying to think of a reasonable excuse. ‘I was thinking of, a… song. Yeah,’ his eyes darted around and landed on the guitar. ‘I was trying to remember the lyrics to a song I wrote.’  
Dean raised both eyebrows. ‘You wrote a song? Wow, show me.’ He held out the guitar expectantly, which Cas gingerly took and rested on his lap. He was in shit now, because – the song he had written wasn’t even finished yet, and it was about Dean. He didn’t have to know that, right? He could just assume that it was about some girl, or even someone imaginary. Cas tried to think of a possible excuse while he started to strum.

‘You’re a fallen star, you’re the getaway car,  
You’re the line in the sand when I go too far.  
You’re the swimming pool on an August day  
And you’re the perfect thing to say.

And you play it coy, but it’s kinda cute  
And when you smile at me you know exactly what you do  
Baby, don’t pretend that you don’t know it’s true  
‘Cause you can see it when I look at you.’

Dean was nodding his head, impressed. He loved Cas’s voice and loved it when he sang, but – who was he singing about? 

‘And in this crazy life  
And through these crazy times it’s you, it’s you  
You make me sing  
You’re every line; you’re every word   
You’re everything.’

Cas cleared his throat and settled the guitar down, a blush creeping up his neck. He was painfully aware of Dean staring at him, but he didn’t see the slight smile start to curl Dean’s lips.  
‘That’s the, um. That’s only the first verse and chorus; I’m… still working on the rest.’ He said softly, leaning the guitar back on the wall.  
‘I like it.’ Dean smiled at Cas, who smiled back in relief. ‘I really like it. But,’ he paused, and Cas internally cringed as he knew what was coming next – ‘Who was the song about?’  
Cas’s lip was bitten in an effort to keep Dean’s name inside his mouth. ‘I don’t know,’ he lied, shrugging. ‘It just kinda sounded good in my head.’

Dean had known him for most of his life. He knew when his best friend was lying, but decided to let it slide for now. He’d ask again later.   
‘So, Cas,’ he wondered, ‘wanna play questions?’  
Castiel bit the inside of his cheek. This could be very dangerous. ‘Yeah, okay. If you get me food.’  
Dean shoved a packet of chips at him on his way back from the kitchen. Cas immediately cheered up and started munching happily. ‘You go first, Cas.’  
He pondered for a minute before replying. ‘Have you ever actually had a girlfriend?’  
Dean shook his head. ‘Not really. I mean, there was Jo, and we’ve been on and off, but… nothing really happened.’  
‘Your turn.’  
‘If you could date any of the boys in our year, who would you pick?’  
The question was so abrupt and harsh. Cas fought to not choke on a piece of chip; that would have been painful. ‘What? I don’t – I’m not–’  
‘That wasn’t the question.’ Dean smirked. ‘Answer it.’  
But Cas could not, in any circumstances, answer it. It was so obviously Dean but there was no way he could ever tell him.   
Heart starting to pound, he licked his lips. ‘Do I have to?’  
‘Are you hiding something? Cas, are you okay?’ Dean leaned forward, concerned. ‘I mean, we tell each other everything, right?’  
‘Right?’ Cas started to get defensive. ‘So if we’re such good friends, why haven’t you told me that you’re–’ He cut himself off once he realised what he was about to say.  
His best friend’s eyebrows were raised in shock. ‘What the – what? What are you talking about? I’m what?’  
‘Never mind.’ Cas scowled, frowning. ‘I… never mind.’  
‘No, tell me.’ Dean replied crossly. ‘What were you going to say?’  
He couldn’t figure out how to say it; he wasn’t sure if he wanted to. But he had to find out what Sam meant before.   
‘What did Sam mean? When he said… you know…’ he gestured vaguely, ‘when he came home with Jess. When he said–’  
‘What the hell are you saying? Are you actually taking my weirdo brother seriously?’ Cas winced at Dean’s raised, angry voice. He hated getting into fights with Dean, as it happened so rarely. ‘Did you really think he was serious? Cas, you know both of us, you know – what the hell? You reckon he thinks that we’re – you’re – I’m–’  
‘Well, are you?’ Cas shouted back. Dean was making him feel like an idiot, but Cas’s repercussions weren’t helping.   
‘Am I what? Go on!’  
‘Gay! Dean, are you gay? If you – why haven’t you told me anything? And then Sam comes in, all gung-ho about it, like I should know about it, and hey, maybe I should because I’m your best friend and we tell each other shit like this!’ Cas was panting by the end of his little speech, but Dean couldn’t answer before a timid voice spoke up from the back of the room.  
‘I’m sorry Dean… I didn’t realise he was going to pick up on anything. I thought – I really–’   
It seemed Sam was having trouble getting his words out, too. Cas’s palms were sweaty and itchy; something that only happened when he was in deep trouble or scared. Maybe it was a little of both. He didn’t want to lose his friend. 

The fact was, this issue shouldn’t have been such a big deal, so Cas tried to take it back. ‘Dean, I’m sorry.’ He mumbled. He hadn’t realised they had both stood up to yell at each other until he felt his legs collapse and he sank back into the chair. Dean followed suit. ‘I didn’t mean to make this such a huge deal and it’s really none of my business, I just… I just…’ a thought struck him. ‘You didn’t answer.’  
‘Should I?’ Dean replied bitterly, a scarlet blush making its way up his face and around to his ears. ‘It seems Sammy has already answered for me.’ His voice was laced with poison as he shot his younger brother a cold glare, from which he visibly shrank back from.

Dean sighed. ‘The fact is, Cas, I was going to tell you. I really was. I am gay, but I couldn’t tell you. I couldn’t – because I – there’s someone who made me have these… these feelings and I was scared, I didn’t want anything to happen, but I…’ he started playing with his fingers, his body angled in a way that told Cas he wanted to move closer to him but was afraid of doing so.   
‘Spit it out, man,’ Sam said gently from his hiding place around the corner. It seemed he couldn’t face his brother, nor Cas. ‘Get it over with, you’ll feel better.’  
Dean opened his mouth, but stuttered. ‘I…’ he tried again, but only made noises and movements like a fish. ‘No,’ he said abruptly, and stood back up and grabbed his jacket from where it hung over the back of the lounge. ‘I need some air.’ He said shortly. ‘I’ll be back soon. Cas, feel free to stay or leave or do whatever the hell you want to do.’   
Sam and Cas both tried to protest but the front door was slammed shut in their faces, raising a cloud of dust that Cas spluttered on. He turned back to Sam, his stomach dropping low. ‘Sam,’ he whispered, his throat dry, ‘tell me. Do you know what he was going to say?’  
Sam avoided his gaze. ‘I think you know what he was going to say, but… don’t assume anything yet. I can’t speak for him – it’s not my place. I’m sorry, Cas.’ He said when Cas opened his mouth to butt in, ‘but you’ll have to get him to tell you. I’m already in enough shit as it is.’   
Cas made a strange strangled noise in the back of his throat, making Sam feel even guiltier than he already did. ‘Where’s Jess?’ he muttered, looking around.  
‘Uh, she… She broke up with me. We had a fight – she left about five minutes ago, didn’t you see her walk past?’  
Cas shook his head, cooling his nerves a little. ‘No, man… hey, I’m sorry.’ He ruffled Sam’s hair, to which the younger boy grinned a little, but ducked out of the way. ‘My girl just left me too.’ Sam threw him an apologetic glance.   
‘Do you want anything?’ Sam offered kindly.  
He bit the inside of his lip. ‘No, I…’ he sighed again. ‘I’m going home.’ Cas swept up his car keys from the bench in front of him and stuffed his hand in his pocket stubbornly. ‘Thanks, Sam. See you round.’  
Sam nodded and held the door open for him, the sinking feeling in both their guts never lessening as they realised that when Dean came back, neither of them would be in his good books. Cas was never one for drama, but he thought maybe this could be the fight that made him lose his best friend.


	4. Chapter 4

On the drive home, Cas realised Dean wasn’t even in the wrong. He had blown everything out of proportion, and he hadn’t been completely honest with his friend himself. It was Dean’s business, no matter how much Cas tried to stick his nose in. He only knew it would get bitten off.   
Cas hadn’t been totally honest, either. The feelings he was having for Dean were only getting stronger every time he saw him. 

It didn’t help that every weekend, they turned up at each other’s doors. When Cas wanted to clear his head and figure out all the mixed signals he was getting from Dean, said friend turned up with a FRIENDS DVD and offered a marathon or just wanted to hang out. But if being this close to each other was going to ruin their friendship, Cas didn’t know what to do. He by no means wanted to change their relationship in any way. If they got closer, then either one of them could get freaked out and back away, but if they spent less time together they would inevitably end up drifting. Cas didn’t think he could stand that. 

Dean’s walk proved pointless. Hands stuffed angrily in pockets, he was embarrassed, ashamed and angry – angry at Sam, for starting the whole thing; angry at Cas, for proving Sam right; and angry at himself for having any sort of feelings.   
Dean loved his best friend. He was ashamed and embarrassed that Cas had to find out the hard way, especially with his kid brother in the room witnessing the whole thing – and he was upset that even though he loved Cas, all he could do was push him away. Dean didn’t want to admit his feelings but now they were too great. Every brush of skin when their arms touched made his stomach do flips, but every time Cas hugged him like a brother he felt a pang of longing; wishing the hug could have meant as much to Cas as it did to him.   
He didn’t want to change anything about their relationship, but Dean had already fucked it up. He fucked it up like he fucked everything else up, and he didn’t know what else he could do. 

He got back home to Sam about three hours later, ignoring his brother who tried to beg for forgiveness. He waved him off, letting his apology slide right off his new thick skin that he had built in the past three hours, and told him not to bother him. ‘Leave me alone.’ He grumbled as he slammed the door to his room. He didn’t come back out for the rest of the day. 

** 

School was awkward. Andy and Michael and the rest of the team could smell the tension between the two friends, but whenever they tried to ask about it Sam would magically appear behind them, muttering something about mustn’t speak about it, falling out, my fault, weekend, don’t ask. The football team was worried about their friends, but decided not to press the issue. They had seen Dean mad before, and didn’t like it. There was no way any of the rest of them wanted to aggravate the vice captain of the team. 

Cas was finishing up the cool down exercises with half a dozen members of the team. He couldn’t help but notice that Dean was nowhere to be seen – not just for the cool down, but for the whole practise game. He wondered where he was. Was he avoiding Cas?  
‘Good job, guys,’ their Coach Singer clapped a few boys on their sweaty backs. ‘You did good. Head off to the change rooms now, reward yourselves. I’ve left a treat up there for yer.’ He winked at Cas and Andy, who had seen him before practice sneakily planting tiny chocolates in the empty sink of the change room for the team when they had finished. ‘Castiel,’ he called just as they started to run off. Cas slowed to a halt and looked back at his coach expectantly. What?   
‘Where’s Dean, boy? He never misses a match.’ He asked him gruffly, but kindly.  
Cas shrugged. ‘I don’t know, he was in class today.’ He answered.  
‘Ahem hmm hm.’ Coach Singer grumbled. ‘He waggin’? That boy…’ he shook his head, then looked back up, suspiciously at Cas. ‘You boys havin’ a fallin’ out or somethin’? He never misses. An’ I saw him at class today – you boys weren’t talkin’. ‘Fact he was avoidin’ you like the plague. Wanna tell me somethin’ kid?’  
The shoulders of a young man sagged as their owner sighed again. ‘We did… have a little fight on the weekend.’ Cas explained, wiping excess sweat off his forehead. ‘He hasn’t spoken to me since.’  
Looking satisfied, Singer crossed his arms. ‘Sort it out then, boy. He ain’t never missed a game before, nor practice. An’ I don’t want you two to be causin’ a lotta tension on the field, you got me?’ he fixed Cas with a hard stare, who nodded.  
‘Yes, sir. I’ll… see if I can talk to him.’  
Singer nodded and sent him off back to the change rooms with a wave. I don’t know if I’ll be able to, Cas thought apologetically, but hell I’ll try. 

Dean, have I done something wrong? 

Cas deleted the text before he could send it. Of course he had done something wrong. The mess on the weekend was mostly his fault, though he still didn’t really understand why Dean wouldn’t speak to him. 

Can we talk? I’m sorry, Dean, I really am. Please talk to me. 

He stared at the text for a while, his finger hovering over the SEND button, but quickly looked up, distracted, when his name was called.   
‘Sam! Hey.’  
The younger Winchester grinned as he jogged over and parked his patootie right next to Cas on the front step of the library. ‘What’re you doing here?’ he asked, trying to sneak a look at the text on Cas’s phone. ‘Have you managed to talk to him yet?’  
‘No. Have you?’  
Sam’s features almost shrank as he diverted his gaze from Cas. ‘No. He usually ignores me at school anyway, but now when he comes home he just goes to his room. I think he’s embarrassed.’  
‘Embarrassed? Why?’  
He shot Cas a look. ‘I spilled his secret to the person he wanted to keep it from the most. You’d be embarrassed, too.’  
Hurt filled Cas as he looked away from Sam, fiddling with a dead leaf he found on the step next to him. Why would he want to keep a secret from Cas? And why was Cas the only person he refused to ever tell? This wasn’t fair. He deserved an explanation, didn’t he?   
Standing up, Cas pressed the SEND button on his phone. ‘Have you seen Charlie lately?’  
‘No, why?’ Sam shook his head.   
‘I wanted to go see a movie with her.’ Cas explained, smiling. ‘I know she really wanted to see the Lego Movie and I have three tickets. I was going to take Dean as well, but I don’t know if he’ll want to…’  
Sam nudged him, oh-so-subtly, and winked. ‘You could always take me, if you’re paying.’  
Laughing, Cas shoved his friend off the step, to which he nearly fell all the way over. ‘You wish, jelly fish. But yeah, I might, if Dean doesn’t want to come with us.’  
Sam smiled and, as Cas started to walk, linked his arm with Cas’s after scooping up his school bag. ‘Where are you going?’  
The two boys walked, arm-in-arm, down the street, talking and laughing. They found themselves at Cas’s place after absentmindedly walking around. Dean hadn’t texted back.  
Cas let the two of them in. ‘You want food?’  
‘Is the Pope Catholic?’ the voice replied from the lounge room as Cas entered the kitchen, making him chuckle. After asking him what he wanted, and Sam replying with ‘anything chocolate’, Cas returned with a mug of hot chocolate each and a block of Cadbury’s to share. Sam whipped out a packet of Doritoes from his bag, which they settled down between them while they both lay on their stomachs to battle each other at Mario Kart.  
Cas was winning, completely focused on his goal of first place, when Sam reached behind them for a split second to pick up his mug. In doing so, he needed to pause the game. Cas was waiting patiently for Sam to drink his drink and set the mug down. He wasn’t watching, but he could somewhat tell what Sam was doing; where he was moving – but was startled suddenly when Sam’s large hand brushed the inside of the back of his exposed thigh. He visibly jumped, and Sam chuckled deeply.  
‘Whoops, sorry Cas. My bad.’ Sam settled his mug down again and pressed play on his remote. Cas won the race but was still surprised at the sudden intimate gesture. He wasn’t sure if Sam had meant to act on the slip of the hand, or if it was a genuine accident. 

Dean texted back.  
I saw you in town today after school. You were with Sam.  
A little puzzled by Dean’s unexpected reply, Cas replied to the message.  
Yeah, I walked home with him. He’s here now, if you wanna come over too. 

No.  
Cas didn’t want to press the issue, so he left it there. If Dean didn’t want to come over, fine. Let him be stubborn.   
‘How many times have you been over here?’ Cas asked after the next race was won.  
Sam thought for a second. ‘Like, once… twice, maybe. I’ve never seen your room, though.’  
Cas scrambled up at that, after shoving a chip in his mouth. ‘I’ll show you, then.’  
‘I won.’   
‘What?’  
Sam nodded over to the TV screen. ‘I won the cup.’  
Cas pretended to growl. ‘I’ll get you next time, Winchester.’  
‘Bring it.’  
Grinning, Cas headed up the stairs with the younger Winchester in tow. He walked over to his room and held the door open for Sam to walk in. ‘Ladies first.’ He winked.  
Sam walked in and looked around. He stared at the four-poster bed, the posters on the wall and the huge window that took up most of one wall. The room was huge. The bed was a queen size, but there was still heaps of room either side and all around it.   
A breeze from the open window shifted the door until it closed. Cas turned back around from watching it close by itself, and suddenly he was almost nose-to-nose with Sam. ‘Whoa!’ he shouted, startled, and tried to stumble backwards but hit the back of the closed door.  
‘Do you like Dean?’  
‘What?’  
‘I said,’ Sam repeated, gripping Cas’s wrist tightly, ‘do you like Dean?’  
‘What, as in like the gay sort of like? I – no. No, I don’t.’  
‘Good.’  
Cas was about to ask what was so good about that when a pair of soft lips were on his, cutting him off. Sam was a good kisser, but bloody hell it was unexpected. So the oh-so-innocent touch from before was on purpose.   
He hadn’t realised he had stayed still and unresponsive for the kiss until Sam called him out on it. ‘Forget about Dean and Meg,’ Sam whispered against his lips. ‘Forget.’  
And Cas did, letting himself melt into the kiss. So what if Dean were gay? It’s not as if he would ever fall for Cas, anyway. He was letting his guard down too much for his stupid friend. Would his best friend care if he was kissing his little brother, though? Cas waved the thought away and concentrated on kissing Sam. It was a little like a drug… He couldn’t stop. Damn, Sam was a good kisser.   
But through the whole kiss, Cas couldn’t stop thinking about Dean, though Sam tried to make him forget.   
Warm hands slipped under Cas’s thin t shirt, the unexpected action making Cas gasp. Sam’s arms wrapped around Cas while long fingers travelled up and fisted themselves into Sam’s long, soft hair. The kiss turned sloppy and hot as Cas jumped up, wrapping his legs around Sam’ waist. Sam supported Cas’s weight, keeping his hands on his exposed lower back. He walked towards the bed but stopped halfway there when a loud bang startled them and made them stop.   
Cas broke away from Sam, letting his legs slide down until they touched the floor. His stomach dropped.  
Dean stood in the doorway, panting. Rage turned his green eyes almost black, though he tried to hide it.   
The only sound to be heard was both Sam and Cas’s loud pants. The rough make out had left them both breathless. Sam’s hair was a mess, Cas’s shirt shoved up around his ribs, which he hastily pulled down. Dean stared Cas down until he couldn’t take the eye contact anymore.  
‘Hey, Dean.’ Sam said in an effort to be casual. ‘Didn’t know you were coming.’  
‘Neither did I.’ Cas replied indignantly. ‘You told me you weren’t going to come over, man.’  
Dean didn’t say anything. He just stared at Cas until he couldn’t look anymore, then turned on his heel and walked back out the door. The two heard the front door slam shut, then the house was filled with quiet. 

‘I think you’d better leave, Sam,’ Cas said quietly. ‘I think we’re both in shit now.’  
‘We were before, but hey, I’ll, uh… see you tomorrow.’  
‘Yeah.’ Sam ruffled Cas’s hair on the way out, shutting the door behind him. Cas sank down, sliding his back against the closed door. His head falling into his hands and staying there, he almost cried. But Castiel had made a promise to himself a while ago that he would not, under any circumstances, cry over Dean Winchester.


End file.
